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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28883058">Breath of Farore ~ Winds of Change</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibigo/pseuds/J%CA%BCLi'>JʼLi (kibigo)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adulthood, Assigned Princess At Birth, Bathing/Washing, Believe it or not the porn is important to the plot, F/F, First Time, Ice Play, Nonbinary Link (Legend of Zelda), Other, Post-Calamity Ganon, Recovered Memory #10 | Mipha's Touch, Recovered Memory #11 | Shelter from the Storm, Recovered Memory #12 | Father and Daughter, Sex and War, Sex in Every Chapter (So Far), Some of these tags are canaries, Sympathetic Yiga Clan Character(s), Trans Female Urbosa (Legend of Zelda), Yiga Lore, Zelda Uses She/Her Pronouns, Zelda is horny, diaries, genderfeels, longfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:07:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,591</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28883058</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibigo/pseuds/J%CA%BCLi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Link nodded.  ‘I miss it.  We were really fortunate, you know?’</p>
  <p>Zelda laughed.  ‘Fortunate?  Through what lens are you peering at our lives to reach <em>that</em> as a possible conclusion?’</p>
  <p>‘We had each other,’ Link replied.  ‘This past year, I’ve been travelling all alone.’</p>
</blockquote>In which Link and Zelda are old friends, standing on the cusp of a new world.<blockquote>
  <p>‘. . . I see.’  Link entirely did not see.  It was unusual enough just hearing Zelda talk about something so qualitative and ill‐defined as “love”, and her explanation sounded less like the truth of what had happened and more like—well, a fairy tale.</p>
  <p>‘I know,’ she sighed.  ‘It’s impossible to explain.  Every time I try to put words to it, it winds up sounding like some romantic cliché.  And we’re not, well—you know.  Like that.  You just happened to journey across the kingdom for me, and I just happened to stave off the end of the world for you.’</p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule/Zelda's Mother (Legend of Zelda), Link/Mipha (Legend of Zelda), Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Original Yiga Clan Character(s)/Original Yiga Clan Character(s), Urbosa/Zelda's Mother (Legend of Zelda), Zelda &amp; Zelda's Mother (Legend of Zelda)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. “Grand Closing”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/20398480">The Complete Guide for Courting Etiquette: the Do's and Don’ts of a Royal Engagement 4th Edition</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/GourdKin/pseuds/GourdKin">GourdKin</a>.
        </li>
        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118084">Breath of the Wild: An Oblivious Hero</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/sad_poet/pseuds/sad_poet">sad_poet</a>.
        </li>
        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/14552079">A Chapel in Deya</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyChestnut/pseuds/SpicyChestnut">SpicyChestnut</a>.
        </li>
        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23541976">A Private Indulgence</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LorelyLantana/pseuds/LorelyLantana">LorelyLantana</a>.
        </li>
        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23238169">Something in my Heart</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip/pseuds/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip">Cowboy_Sneep_Dip</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>PLEASE BE ADVISED LINK USES THEY/THEM PRONOUNS IN THIS FIC!!</p><p>this story is not betaread because if i fuck up i want the whole world to know</p><p>also i have no betareader 🤐</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>is this anything . . ?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A teenager in a white dress stood, not alone, on a verdant plain. 
	The time was early afternoon. 
	A light breeze whipped up around her as she spoke, chilling her flesh and tossing her hair this way and that—most of it, to her great distaste, seeming to wind up in her mouth. 
	She forcibly tucked it behind an ear with one hand. 
	‘May I ask,’ she began. 
	‘Do you really remember me?’ 
	These five words: 
	The ones she really could not wait a moment longer to say.</p>
<p>How would this moment go? 
	She’d had a whole year to imagine it. 
	Would their reunion be sentimental? 
	Which of them would be the first to cry? 
	Her companion faced her head·on; their blue eyes bored into her as she posed her question; their brows furrowed as they parsed its form; and then— mouth opening—</p>
<p>They laughed. 
	Zelda took a step back, her cheeks burning. 
	Of all the things, they had the gall to <em>laugh</em>. 
	For the first time in over a century, she was reminded how it felt to be the butt end of a joke.</p>
<p>‘Princess,’ Link wheezed, gasping for their breath. 
	‘Why the fuck do you think I’m here?’ 
	The bluntness of the question caught her offguard—although, they had always been earthy like that, Zelda remembered :— rural, a people’s fay. 
	Zelda laughed herself, just hearing their voice again—short. 
	It wasn’t really funny.</p>
<p>‘Surely . . . to defeat Ganon?’ she surmised. 
	That was <em>what</em> they had done there, the both of them. 
	And so she had always known would be the case: that Link would defeat Ganon, of course they would—or else fall to her own incompetence. 
	Of all the prophecies which had beset her in her lifetime, for this one alone she had never felt a reason to question <em>why</em>.</p>
<p>But to a Link waking up alone and abandoned after a century of respite, travelling to the four corners of the earth to free the Divine Beasts, and then here, its poisonous centre, to engage Hatred and Malice Incarnate in mortal combat for perhaps the final time, the <em>why</em> must have been important. 
	‘Even I,’ Link claimed, crossing their heart in a way which only made Zelda doubt the veracity of these words, ‘am not so reckless as to storm Hyrule Castle without a reason. 
	Ganon could’ve waited. 
	But you . . .’ 
	They held out their hand. 
	‘There’s a whole world out there, Princess. 
	You deserved to see it on your birthday.’</p>
<p>‘Don’t call me that,’ Zelda pouted, batting away their hand. 
	Then she paused, as the second half of their statement sank in. 
	‘Wait, do you mean to say my birthday is today?’</p>
<p>‘One·hundred·eighteenth, or so they say. 
	I wouldn’t know: 
	I was asleep for most of it.’ 
	They grinned. 
	‘Oh! 
	But, I almost forgot! 
	I brought you a present!’ 
	And they dug in their pack before withdrawing a single flower, which they presented to her humming the customary tune. 
	Zelda took it—a silent princess, looking as fresh as though it had been picked just moments before. 
	In a rush, Zelda concluded that this simple explanation was assuredly the correct one—which was to say, that this was all according to Link’s plan, that before they had rushed into battle with the single most dangerous entity in all of Hyrule, they must have taken the time to figure out what fucking <em>flower</em> they were going to present her with upon their inevitable victory, and plucked it especially for the purpose. 
	And the flower they had chosen just happened to be the rarest known to man, and also her favourite. 
	On her birthday.</p>
<p>It was all such a hopelessly romantic gesture that Zelda couldn’t begin to even, and she knew that the answer was her: 
	She would be the first to cry, and she was their reason. 
	She felt, more than saw, them step forward; arms closed around her and she clung to their tunic like a lifeline. 
	She had questioned the choice, when she first saw it, of Sheikah armour, but now she understood: 
	No garment absorbed teardrops so well.</p>
<p>The flower was crushed. 
	No matter: 
	It had served its purpose, and Zelda couldn’t bear to look at it any longer, besides.</p>
<p>‘The Sheikah still celebrate it every year, you know,’ Link whispered. 
	‘<i>Princess Zelda’s Birthday</i>. 
	If only I could spirit you across the map—we could be celebrating right now with Impa. 
	Alas, no Sages have seen fit to bestow such power upon me.’</p>
<p>‘I don’t think I would trust you with such a power,’ Zelda replied—although she <em>was</em> touched, in a way. 
	‘And—celebrate with the Sheikah? 
	The Yiga would be more appropriate.’ 
	Because, of course, it was the Calamity’s birthday, too. 
	It was her own failure, a year and a century past—well. 
	There was no saying whether it could have been averted. 
	But if the blame <em>wasn’t</em> intended to rest squarely upon her shoulders, Zelda thought, the gods could have picked a different fucking day.</p>
<p>‘I’ll admit, I never got the opportunity to ask them about that,’ Link replied, and the tone in their voice suggested that they had indeed had dealings with the Yiga about other, less‐pleasant things.</p>
<p>‘I feel bad about missing yours, again.’ 
	Zelda drew back from them, sniffling slightly, and attempted to appraise them through her tears. 
	‘You do look older,’ she decided, finally.</p>
<p>‘Yourself as well,’ Link replied, and this was, to them, a matter of some surprise. 
	It wasn’t only the way that their experiences had hardened them both; it wasn’t only the maturity with which she now arranged her posture; these things were true, but she also looked literally, physically <em>older</em>, less a teenager than she had in even their most recent of memories.</p>
<p>But Zelda herself seemed resigned to the fact. 
	‘Yes, well,’ she said, ‘there’s stasis, and then there is stasis. 
	It was hardly possible for me to communicate with you while leaving myself beyond the flow of time.’ 
	Thankfully, it had only been a year. 
	Her eighteenth, robbed from her in its entirety by the Calamity; the final year of her childhood, which had been taken likewise. 
	And good riddance. 
	After everything wot had happened, she was more than ready to be an adult.</p>
<p>‘I didn‘t mean in a bad way,’ Link clarified, as though that were ever in question. 
	‘I mean, I never would have imagined you “queenly” before, but now?’ 
	They held their fingers up in a mock Sheikah Slate and lined her up inside the rectangle. 
	‘. . . I can picture it.’</p>
<p>Zelda huffed and broke the shape with her arm. 
	As much as she loved the capture feature of the Slate, she had always stubbornly refused to point it at herself. 
	Let future generations wonder as to the shape of her face, the colour of her eyes, and the style of her hair. 
	If any portraits of her existed in years past, the Calamity had surely seen them destroyed (save one which, unbeknownst to her, hung on the wall in Link’s house in Hateno; it would not survive her encounter). 
	‘Thank you, Ser Knight,’ she said, in a low monotone, ‘for reminding me that my father is dead.’ 
	Link visibly cringed, but she waved off the apology before it had the chance to come. 
	‘It’s fine. 
	I’m not sad about it. 
	Just tired—numb.’ 
	By all rights, she <em>ought</em> to have been sad—but she had never felt the need to keep up appearances around Link, hadn’t even when she’d hated them. 
	‘ “Queen” is at least better than “Princess”,’ she conceded.</p>
<p>The pair stood and stared at the ruined Castle, now devoid entirely of its Malice, and looking rather sorry for it. 
	‘If you want,’ Link joked, ‘we could go search for the Royal Jewels.’</p>
<p>‘To destroy?’ 
	Zelda eyed them. 
	They both knew she had no intention of ascending the throne: 
	She had frowned upon the idea even when the monarchy was still standing; she was hardly set to go about reviving it now. 
	But that didn’t imply there weren’t other treasures in the Castle worth saving. 
	‘While you were in there . . . did you happen to discern the state of my room?’</p>
<p>‘It’s a mess, but what’s new?’ 
	Zelda shoved them for the tease, or attempted to: 
	Link sidestepped neatly. 
	‘Honestly,’ they continued, as though nothing had happened, ‘after one·hundred years, it seemed remarkably well‐preserved. 
	Well, except for the bed.’</p>
<p>No matter—she had no interest in <em>sleeping</em> there. 
	‘It makes sense,’ Zelda supposed. 
	‘Few agents of decay would thrive in an environment already beset by Malice. 
	I should think the whole Castle has been rather . . . pickled, all this time.’ 
	She sighed. 
	‘. . . What about yours?’</p>
<p>As her assigned knight, Link’s room had been sparse and near her own. 
	She had never been permitted to see inside. 
	‘I didn’t check,’ Link admitted, and Zelda held out her arm.</p>
<p>‘I’m exhausted,’ she said, which was true, at least emotionally. 
	Something about holding back the Scourge for one·hundred·one years. 
	And, unlike her own quarters, she could imagine Link’s offering some modicum of comfort. 
	‘Shall we?’</p>
<p>Link’s room, as it happened, was entirely intact. 
	This included the bed, thick coating of dust aside. 
	The two of them stripped the mattress and replaced the sheets with blankets from Link’s pack; while sagging, it would still be more comfortable than the hard, stone floor. 
	‘I don’t suppose you have anything more cosy which I might wear?’ Zelda asked, and Link procured a lightweight climbing tunic and trousers, which she changed into on the spot. 
	As ever, she considered it fortunate that they were roughly the same size—it wasn’t the first time she had worn Link’s clothing before.</p>
<p>Her ceremonial dress she kicked out of sight. 
	It would not be leaving the castle; let future historians speculate when its decaying form is finally discovered in the bedroom of her guard. 
	She did demand a pair of Link’s boxers, not wanting anything on her person wot reminded her of the beforetimes, and did <em>not</em> discard her panties, much as she was stricken with the juvenile urge to defenestrate. 
	The two had travelled together for months prior to the Calamity; they were quite used to each other’s bodies, and frankly it was a nice change of pace to be stripping down for a wardrobe adjustment and not because somebody was bleeding. 
	If Link somehow, after all this time, still managed to find some perverse pleasure out of the mundane sight of her naked figure, well, Zelda still preferred that to being alone.</p>
<p>It had been over a century since Zelda had properly been alone. 
	The pair climbed into bed. 
	The time was midafternoon.</p>
<p>‘I demand a moratorium on any discussion regarding what just occurred, until such a time as we are both better‐rested,’ Zelda decreed, propping herself up with a pillow. 
	Sleep at this hour was more a wishful ideal than a legitimate possibility, but she was content just reclining in bed for the present moment. 
	Indeed, more than content: 
	It almost made the whole cursed Calamity worth it, just for the opportunity to lie there alongside Link in bed. 
	The space was a bit small, but, well. 
	Link, at least, was slender.</p>
<p>Zelda’s order in effect, however, they each struggled to think of anything with which to contest the silence wot fell upon them. 
	Link really was not the type to speak unless spoken to, so it was frankly Zelda’s responsibility. 
	But she could hardly think beyond the present—beyond this room, and the two of them, alive, breathing, together in it.</p>
<p>‘. . . You smell,’ she said.</p>
<p>The words might have been taken for an insult—but they were hardly intended as such. 
	Zelda had, after all, become quite accustomed to Link’s scent before the Calamity had struck. 
	And after having the sharp notes of Malice fill her nostrils every day for the past hundred years, she realized that this <em>was</em>, in a sense, what she had been fighting for. 
	The simple and earthy scent of one who she loved, wafting through the air from beside her.</p>
<p>‘You too, Zel,’ Link replied, which was entirely fair.</p>
<p>‘It’s okay,’ Zelda stated, resisting the urge to bury her nose in their tunic and revel in its odour. 
	‘I missed it; after all, my telepathic connection to you didn’t exactly <em>convey</em> smell.’</p>
<p>This, Link decided, was almost undoubtedly a good thing. 
	‘. . . What exactly <em>did</em> it convey?’ they asked. 
	Aside from the occasional interjection into their thoughts and vague statements of “I’ve been keeping watch over you”, Zelda had never been clear on this point. 
	But it mustn’t’ve been much, because Link knew she wouldn’t’ve resisted whispering the answers to the Shrine puzzles if she’d been able.</p>
<p>‘It was very . . . tactile,’ Zelda replied. 
	‘Where you were, what you were feeling, but nothing beyond perhaps your immediate physical surroundings. 
	No thoughts, which is why I didn’t bother communicating anything which needed a response. 
	Also, I’m sorry if it was a breach of privacy, but you have to understand, life in the Castle was <em>such</em> a bore—’</p>
<p>‘You needn’t worry about it. 
	It was reassuring to know that, if not the Goddess Hylia, <em>somebody</em> was looking out for me.’</p>
<p>And they were skirting very close to it now: to talking about the Calamity. 
	The trials they had just faced; the people they had lost —: Zelda was determined to put off mention of it for as long as possible. 
	Thankfully, she had a segue. 
	‘Just to get all potential awkwardness out of the way,’ she said, gently hugging her legs. 
	‘I did catch you masturbating, once. 
	So, you know, now we’re even.’</p>
<p>‘Only once?’ Link asked. 
	It was a joke. 
	They both knew, and Zelda now especially so, that Link hardly ever masturbated—but she played along.</p>
<p>‘I wouldn’t have minded more, but after a while you start to lose plausible deniability,’ she teased back. 
	‘Anyway, we used to talk about that sort of thing Before, so. 
	Just thought you should know.’</p>
<p>Link nodded. 
	‘I miss it. 
	We were really fortunate, you know?’</p>
<p>Zelda laughed. 
	‘Fortunate? 
	Through what lens are you peering at our lives to reach <em>that</em> as a possible conclusion?’</p>
<p>‘We had each other,’ Link replied. 
	‘This past year, I’ve been travelling all alone.’</p>
<p>And they still had one another. 
	Zelda reached over and gently squeezed Link’s hand. 
	‘Yeah,’ she said. 
	‘I know.’</p>
<p>Silence fell between them for a long minute. 
	Finally, Link spoke. 
	‘I’m kind of hungry,’ they said, reaching for their pack. 
	‘I have snacks. 
	What do you say we eat them and just chat, like in old times?’</p>
<p>‘Only this time, we do it <em>in a bed</em>, because we’re adults now and we do what we want,’ Zelda amended. 
	‘Yes, I’d like that.’</p>
<p>‘Amen.’ 
	And, for the first time in one·hundred·one years, Link and Zelda talked.</p><hr/>
<p>Yet, as Link and Zelda rested, elsewhere in Hyrule there were those growing restless. 
	In the shadow of the Akkala Citadel, in a military encampment above Akkala Falls, a Yiga Captain by the name of Kura was chief among them. 
	Nestled in the furthest and most desolate reaches of the continent, her army had not seen any action apart from daily training for some years—ever since Kohga had risen to power, and assigned Kura to this post. 
	But Kohga was in power no more, having finally taken the fall for his haphazard and incendiary tactics, and the hour of change was quickly at hand.</p>
<p>Change was inevitable, and anyone who Sought the Truth knew it, much as Kohga’s devotees might try to obscure the fact. 
	The Calamity, as good as it had been to the Yiga for the past hundred years—and it had been exceptionally good; even Kura had to admit that much, if one looked past the casualties—it was not an instrument of Power. 
	It had not elevated the Yiga beyond what they could reach with their own two hands. 
	And nor had it restored their sovereign claim to the region of Hyrule. 
	No, the Calamity was no instrument of Power—it was an instrument of Retribution.</p>
<p>With Kohga’s defeat (good riddance) and the Divine Beasts’ reawakening, both at the hands of the fated Hero, resurrected from times of old, it was clear that Hyrule’s sentence was coming to an end. 
	So it was with good reason that Kura was growing restless: 
	While the Yiga Nation had stumbled along headless for the past few months, time would not permit them to stal much longer. 
	It was in anticipation of this end that the Akhaala Yiga had abstained from the conflict which had consumed their kin for the past half‐decade. 
	Nevertheless, they had trained every day.</p>
<p>Then again, this day was the exception. 
	The one·hundred·first anniversary of the Calamity’s Rebirth: 
	Not nearly so raucous a thing as the Centennial, but one celebrates Salvation even when it occurs on odd‐numbered years. 
	Kura had given orders for a party to be ready to march at dawn if necessary: 
	The Hero had been sighted approaching Hyrule Castle on horseback. 
	They all knew how this day would end.</p>
<p>Which was why it was more important than ever that they treasure the present moment. 
	And why, when Death Mountain shuddered and Vah Rudania lit up the skies from its slopes to the north, or when Vah Ruta did the same from the south, or when the roar of Malice reverberated through the earth and the heavens bled red, Kura did not take her eyes off the woman beside her. 
	They were sitting by the fire, having tea, and when the other woman turned her gaze skyward, Kura softly called her name: 
	‘Jehree, please. 
	There’s nothing we can do.’</p>
<p>They were celebrating together—if “celebrating” was the correct word—because it was New Year’s and that was what lovers did—even if “lover” was hardly a title befitting of someone in Kura’s position. 
	But, for another reason as well. 
	‘You will be leaving tomorrow, then?’ 
	The fire glinted off Jehree’s eyes as she spoke, eyes which reluctantly returned to her partner·in·tea. 
	‘That’s what this means, right?’</p>
<p>‘We shall see what the scouts say.’ 
	Kura took a small sip. 
	‘But yes.’</p>
<p>Jehree turned away from her, a sour look on her face. 
	Kura reached over and gently squeezed her thigh.</p>
<p>‘Jejje, you know what it is I must do. 
	Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft.’ 
	Jehree scoffed, reached down, and lifted a mighty banana, peeling it without a word. 
	She set the tip gently between her teeth, then abruptly bit it off. 
	‘A banana, really?’ Kura asked. 
	‘You’ll ruin the flavour of the tea.’</p>
<p>‘I’m done having tea,’ Jehree replied curtly. 
	‘And regardless, it reminds me of you. 
	Sweet—and gone bad before you know.’</p>
<p>Kura laughed, then peeled a banana for herself, because fuck it, they sure weren’t going  to have any on the road. 
	It was swift carrots from here on out. 
	‘You’re one to talk,’ she said, taking a bite of her own. 
	‘Mushy—and easy to bruise.’</p>
<p>‘Temperamental. 
	Only pleasing if you catch her at exactly the right moment.’</p>
<p>‘Thin‐skinned. 
	And smelly if you leave her to sit by the fire too long.’</p>
<p>A banana peel slapped her in the face, although they were both laughing now. 
	Kura disentangled it from her hair. 
	‘We truly do have the strangest tastes,’ she reflected, staring at it in her hands. 
	‘But I wouldn’t give them up for the world.’</p>
<p>The sky lightened as they caught their breath; regained its blue. 
	Jehree didn’t take her eyes off her this time, and the two gazed into each other’s souls as the songbirds refound their tune. 
	‘So, we’re fucking now, right?’ Jehree asked. 
	‘Before you go and run away?’</p>
<p>‘Oh, we’re definitely fucking.’</p>
<p>Jehree wasn’t military—obviously. 
	Even Kura wasn’t so controversial as that. 
	She made her living crafting elixirs—which, in the Akkala Region, often made for an even more dangerous line of work. 
	After all, the military didn’t do much besides train; excercise; hunt for food. 
	Material‐gathering for elixir could get a little more . . . dicey.</p>
<p>But if Jehree resented her harsher lot in life, it clearly wasn’t enough to stop her from sharing a mat with the Captain. 
	They had fallen into an easy comfort over the past few years, just a few shakes short of serious, and Kura couldn’t deny a feeling of heartache when she imagined marching away from their camp. 
	But such pain was characteristic of her position: 
	It could not sway her decisions in the slightest. 
	The pains of selfish action were, of course, far greater.</p>
<p>Still, Kura was thankful for the tender moments which helped to temper the edge. 
	Within her tent, she decomposed her uniform in parts :— gloves, boots, hood, maillot, sleeves, leggings, underpants, each neatly folded and placed upon the wooden chest which held her effects. 
	Jehree had a much easier time of things, and showed much less care, blithe in the haphazard way her garments were strewn across the floor. 
	She hit the mat first, thusly, and Kura joined her, chin resting on sternum, fingers tracing collarbone gently.</p>
<p>‘So,’ Kura began, as Jehree’s hand came up, almost automatically, to scratch beneath her shoulderblades. 
	‘How are we doing this?’</p>
<p>Jehree’s skin was soft as ever, arousing and comforting at the same time, and Kura felt her own tingle lightly, restless, like trying to sleep after eating too much boko nut. 
	She smelled of fire and herself and voltfruit, and her breaths came slow and calmly.</p>
<p>‘Are you in a hurry?’ Jehree asked, smiling.</p>
<p>‘Mm, well, end of our present era aside,’ Kura answered, ‘I do have scouts reporting back within the hour. 
	I’d rather meet them satisfied than distracted.’</p>
<p>‘Always so thoughtful.’ 
	Jehree’s hand traced down Kura’s back until it rested on her buttocks. 
	‘But I won’t have you using <em>that</em> as an excuse to get out of pleasuring me.’</p>
<p>‘Okay, so you first,’ Kura replied, which was her preferred order for things anyway. 
	She wasn’t a horny teenager anymore; it took her a little time to get going, and there was nothing quite like watching an Akkala woman climax to get those particular juices flowing.</p>
<p>Jehree was hardly a horny teenager herself, and foreplay came as a matter of course.</p>
<p>First came a kiss—soft and chaste, just to prime the pump. 
	They only ever kissed like this: naked and tender, just once or twice. 
	Never too much. 
	The rest of their bodies, however, was fair game: 
	Kura switched from lip to tooth, mouth to jaw, drawing a small moan out of her partner’s depths. 
	Her nose nestled against earlobe, her hands beginning to explore.</p>
<p>Kura was not native to the Akkala Region. 
	She had been born in Gerudo, and she had the look :— hair like a wildberry; skin like an olive; nose like a beak. 
	It carried a lot of power out here, where most of the Yiga were more recent converts, families wot had never known the Exile. 
	And Kura was thankful for that. 
	She didn’t like explaining the real reason she was posted here—that she was Kohga’s cousin; that he had wanted to get rid of her; that she was made Captain so that she couldn’t complain about being shipped clear to the other end of the continent—her tongue traced slowly around Jehree’s nipple, bringing it erect—and she wasn’t complaining. 
	The distance had kept her head on straight, kept her from selfdestructing as Kohga waged his guerrilla war on the entirety of Hyrule. 
	And—her hand, braced by her thigh, pressed up against Jehree’s crotch—the Akhaala Yiga weren’t anyone to laugh at, either.</p>
<p>Kisses trailed down Jehree’s chest. 
	The woman was thin—she reminded Kura of an old tree, all limb and weathered flesh, intimidating to look at, but—her fingers ran slowly up between Jehree’s folds, damp, parting them—so much fun to climb. 
	And—she brought her fingers to her own mouth, tasting her handiwork—with the sweetest syrup inside.</p>
<p>‘I thought you were supposed to be in something of a rush,’ Jehree said, stretching lightly. 
	Kura smiled. 
	She was ready, then.</p>
<p>She began slowly: two fingers, running along the inside of her folds, to either side of her clitoris. 
	Then her tongue, rubbing small circles around her nib. 
	Jehree hissed and arched her back as she made contact, and Kura traced one hand gently up her side, hip to armpit, to placate her. 
	With the other, a finger curled inside.</p>
<p>As controlled as the tides. 
	Kura let her lips envelop Jehree’s clit and sucked gently, softly humming. 
	She had only been stationed in Akkala for a week when the pair had first met. 
	They’d caught each other’s attention immediately: Kura, the enigmatic new general from Gerudo; Jehree, the potionseller whose eyes could follow her wherever she strode. 
	A month, and they were fucking every week’s end. 
	Then, followed a year of experimentation. 
	A year of comfort. 
	A year of estrangement; a year of reconciliation. 
	And now, a year of silent knowing. 
	Two fingers. 
	Slow. 
	Faster.</p>
<p>Jehree came. 
	That year was coming to a close.</p>
<p>Kura gave her a small kiss, just a peck, as her partner mumbled incoherent appreciation. 
	Jehree reached up and caught her chin, just this once, and kissed her deeper. 
	‘I’ll miss you,’ she whispered.</p>
<p>Kura nuzzled her cheek, and rolled to her side. 
	‘Show me,’ she said.</p>
<p>Above Hyrule Castle, the sun sank lower.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h4>20 Hyjuary 2021.</h4><p>Writing the Yiga Clan is always a bit of a tricky negotiation, because the first‐blush simple interpretation is simply to treat them as a fascistic death cult (militaristic society? ✅; absurd obsession with fashion and theatrics? ✅; literally worshipping Demise / the Calamity / death itself; <i>viva la muerte</i> and all that? ✅✅✅), <em>and yet</em>.  A little digging and the picture becomes much more complicated.  I hope to use this fic to explore a broader spectrum of Sheikah/Yiga perspectives than the canonical choice between docile servitude and clamouring for literally everyone’s death, while remaining critical of Kohga and everything he did.</p><p>Hence the preponderance of OCs.  I apologize.</p><p>Speaking of fascistic death cults, today we see the departure of a nasty one from the reins of power.  May those comrades in land occupied by the United States find their own moments of respite, before their hard work begins.</p><hr/>
<h4>Soundtrack</h4>
<dl>
	<dt>🎵TITLE</dt>
	<dd>Worriers. “Grand Closing”. From <cite>You or Someone You Know</cite> (6131 Records, 2020). <a href="https://worriers.bandcamp.com/track/grand-closing">Bandcamp</a>; <a href="https://youtu.be/olgoewhbztY">Youtube</a>.</dd>
	<dt>🎵A</dt>
	<dd>Michael Kiwanuka. “Piano Joint (This Kind of Love)”. From <cite>KIWANUKA</cite> (Polydor, 2019). <a href="https://youtu.be/lf5kxzyOBRc">Youtube</a>.</dd>
	<dt>🎵B</dt>
	<dd>Vaults. “One Last Night”. From <cite>Fifty Shades of Grey (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)</cite> (Universal Studios &amp; Republic Records, 2015). <a href="https://youtu.be/NDfrS-uvI0Q">Youtube</a>.</dd>
</dl>
<hr/>
<h4>postscript</h4><p>please tell me if this is anything i’m serious i can’t tell</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. “In Praise of Shadows”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>people talk up the beginning of a novel, but in my experience, it is the second chapter which is the most important. that’s why i began it with the phrase « Jehree was three fingers deep in Kura’s hole »</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jehree was three fingers deep in Kura’s hole when the head of the scouting party announced his position outside her tent. 
	‘Five minutes!’ the Captain shouted, gasping, closing her eyes and wishing her partner would just get on with it.</p><p>Unlike Jehree, Kura did not orgasm quietly.</p><p>There was no time to bask in the moment; it was five deep breaths and she was putting on her robe, her posture all business despite the flush in her cheeks. 
	She opened the tent flap to see Peeyoor standing, waiting patiently for her. 
	‘Yes?’</p><p>If the sounds of what had just transpired disturbed the scout leader, he masked it well. 
	He gave a hasty salute. 
	‘Report of events pertaining to Hyrule Field.’ 
	Kura nodded, and waved at him to proceed. 
	‘At approximately 14:00, the Hero entered the inner Sanctum of Hyrule Castle; the Divine Beasts fired their weapons shortly after, as I’m sure you saw.’</p><p>‘Quite. 
	Their target?’</p><p>‘. . . Also the Sanctum.’ 
	Peeyoor shifted uneasily. 
	‘The Hero did not seem harmed by the blast; he was seen some fifteen minutes later riding across Hyrule Field. 
	How he made it out there in that time is unclear. 
	More worthy of note: his opponent. 
	Ganon.’</p><p>‘. . . Yes,’ Kura said, sighing. 
	It was uncharacteristic for Peeyoor to be so fazed; like all scouts, however, he was still a little green. 
	Hopefully this would serve as a lesson that the time for awe was <em>not</em> when giving a report to your superiors. 
	‘The Hero has been opposing Ganon for <em>some time</em>. 
	Describe.’</p><p>‘I’m . . . not entirely sure how,’ he admitted. 
	‘It was the Shadow Boar in all Her glory, tall as a fortress and red as Malice. 
	Some destruction followed. 
	Then, the Hero put Her down, weilding arrows of light.’</p><p>‘Just like that? 
	With a bow?’</p><p>‘. . . Not exactly. 
	He had help. 
	A woman in a white dress—commanding the Power of the Gods.’</p><p>It was all as had been foretold, then. 
	Almost disappointing. 
	‘And then?’</p><p>‘They returned to the Castle. 
	All signs of Malice have disappeared, and the Guardians appear to be dormant. 
	Captain . . . 
	I think it’s over.’</p><p>‘Our vacation is over, I’ll tell you that,’ Kura said, glancing at the sky. 
	‘Have Ensign Hepriko report; I’d like to see the Castle before sunfall with my own eyes if possible. 
	Prepare a party to escort; we’ll leave at 18:00. 
	Also, tell Lieutenant Hapol I’ll expect to see him on our return.’</p><p>‘Understood, Captain.’</p><p>‘Dismissed,’ and the tent flap closed. 
	Kura sighed and stared at the canvas. 
	After Kohga’s death, it had been mutually agreed among the Yiga Captains that whichever of them secured the defeat of the Hylian Champion would be the one to succeed the Master. 
	Of course, this was a fool’s errand for any number of reasons. 
	As a solitary traveller, the Hero was nigh‐impossible to track, could outpace and avoid any large regiment, and was better‐armoured, better‐equipped, and frankly better‐skilled than any scout which might try to engage him on their own. 
	Their best chance had been to draw him into an ambush, but it had been the spectacular backfiring of <em>that</em> plan which had brought Kohga’s demise in the first place.</p><p>And, tactical difficultly notwithstanding, the success of the Hero had been foretold—and by the Original Sheikah, not only their Hylia‐worshipping Loyalist counterparts. 
	So Kura had not wasted the resources. 
	Nevertheless, a part of her wondered: 
	If she had not been so stingy, if she had thrown the entirety of her forces into slaying the Hero instead of preparing for his eventual triumph—might today have been averted? 
	And yet now, at Calamity’s end, when the rest of the Yiga Nation was battered and tired from defeat—now was her chance to seize the day. 
	To chart a different future for her people.</p><p>The thought sent shivers down Kura’s spine as she got dressed. 
	Outside, she heard Ensign Hepriko announce her presence. 
	Kura nodded once to Jehree, who was watching her amusedly from her mat, still reclining, still comfortably naked.</p><p>It was hardly the first time that Kura had left her in this way.</p><p>Ensign Hepriko was a young, sprightly girl with an athletic figure and a mind suited for command. 
	In a perfect world, she would have been Kura’s successor. 
	Lieutenant Hapol was older than either of them and nearing retirement; beyond this, he had held his position for the better part of two decades and had no further aspirations. 
	So it was quite usual, in situations such as this, for the Lieutenant to take command of camp and Ensign and Captain to abscond on excursion.</p><p>Well. 
	Neither woman had ever encountered a situation <em>quite</em> like this before.</p><p>They dined together at Kura’s invitation, an early supper which offered a paucity of options but a great deal of privacy, which was valued more. 
	‘Given the distance,’ Kura stated, buttering a heel of bread, ‘I imagine only Poomin and Kkornaj will receive detailed eyewitness reports before nightfall. 
	Doubtless Driss will have some view on things, and I doubt they missed the Divine Beast’s firing in Gerudo.’ 
	Poomin was the Yiga Captain of the Eldin Region; although he was best‐positioned to make a move, his forces were underresourced and his temperament conservative. 
	Driss, Captain of Lanayru, was both understaffed and lacked mobility. 
	Kkornaj, Hebra, was assertive and posed a challenge.</p><p>‘Do you think one of them will make a move on the Castle?’ Hepriko asked. 
	‘With the Hero no longer alone, it might make an easier target.’</p><p>Kura shook her head. 
	‘The Castle is too large to secure. 
	If he had intel on their exact location, Kkornaj might try it . . . but I have a feeling, at the moment, all eyes are turned south. 
	The Hero is of limited threat with the Calamity gone.’</p><p>‘And the woman in white?’ 
	Hepriko had presumanbly wrung the same report out of Peeyoor as Kura had, which had been her intention in sending him to do the summoning. 
	‘You don’t think anyone is worried about the restoration of the Hylian monarchy?’</p><p>‘<em>I’m</em> worried,’ Kura laughed. 
	‘But there’s no sense firing arrows on unstable ground. 
	In any case, nothing will happen tonight, and by this time tomorrow, I’ll be approaching Crenel. 
	We’ll send word if anything needs to happen. 
	But I want your focus to be on Akkala Citadel: 
	I’m taking Hapol south; you’ll be in command here.’</p><p>Hepriko blinked. 
	‘I’m honoured,’ she said. 
	She had never been entrusted with command for such a long term; it would be weeks, potentially months, before Kura’s regiment would return. 
	‘Although, I am a bit disappointed not to get to see Gerudo.’</p><p>Kura winked at her. 
	‘I’ll get you a souvenir.’</p><p>‘Akkala Citadel, huh.’ 
	Hepriko stared at a map, hung nearby. 
	‘I can’t tell if our position is advantageous or not,’ she admitted. 
	‘Even with your headstart, if everyone converges on Gerudo, you’ll be the last to arrive. 
	Still, when you consider the paths of travel . . .’</p><p>‘. . . We’ll be in prime position to observe Hyrule Castle the whole time. 
	I doubt it will make much  of a difference, but . . .’ 
	Kura shrugged. 
	‘Stranger things have turned the tides. 
	Whatever happens, I’ll do my best to send word before any armies arrive.’</p><p>On the matter of observing Hyrule Castle, they departed at 18:00 sharp. 
	It would be a brisk walk to bring them to Akkala Span before nightfall, and they travelled silently to avoid attracting the attention of the blin who liked to camp out near the bridge.</p><p>Yet, on arriving, there were no blin. 
	The hinox which normally slept in the Parade Ground Ruins, too, was absent. 
	Hyrule Castle, when it came into view in the far distance, was dead and plain, with none of the telltale red glow of Malice which had graced their skyline for the past hundred years. 
	Gone, too, was the swirling red smoke of Calamity Ganon. 
	Hylia River flowed peacefully between them. 
	The world was still, and sad, and quiet.</p><p>Hyrule Field had seen better days, too. 
	Huge swaths of grass were trampled, burnt, or otherwise destroyed, in a path which was not long but surprisingly wide, leading away from Hyrule Castle. 
	This, presumably, was the location of the final battle between the Hero and the Shadow Boar. 
	They were all fortunate that the season was early summer, and the grass was still green. 
	Still, Kura shuddered to think of what force might have caused such carnage, and what force was so powerful as to stop it.</p><p>Peeyoor’s report seemed true. 
	The Calamity was over. 
	As the sun dipped lower, the shadows beneath Hyrule Castle only grew.</p><hr/><p>It was nighttime when Zelda awoke. 
	The rest—her first true bodily sleep in a century’s time—did wonders for her confidence, as though she were her old, independent self again, and the Calamity had been nothing more than a bad dream. 
	Of course, the figure of Link, sleeping soundly beside her, told her otherwise. 
	Unlike them, Zelda had not actually <em>done</em> much the previous day; if her body was sore, it was from sleeping in a hundred·and·Hylia·knows·how·many‐year‐old bed rather than any physical exertion during the battle. 
	To say that she had planned this would be to overstate her cunning, but it was only natural that there came a time when she stirred and Link did not; Zelda realized that she had secretly been anticipating the opportunity. 
	Stealthily, she slipped out from under the blankets, and padded silently to the door.</p><p>The stone was cold on her feet. 
	But she daredn’t put on her sandals for fear of making a noise, and anyway, it made her feel grounded, alive.</p><p>The moon was but a sliver, and the hallway dark and chill. 
	Zelda’s hands fumbled numbly with the tinderbox for three minutes before she could manage to light a splint, and then candle, casting flickering shadows everywhere she looked. 
	One might be forgiven for thinking the scene eerie. 
	It was impossible, looking upon the wreckage of that great castle, to forget that countless lives had been lost here, years ago.</p><p>And yet Zelda felt no hesitation, nor any fear, as she walked down its halls. 
	To the contrary: 
	The Castle felt safer to her now, in death, than it ever had in the course of its life. 
	As though this had always been its fate, and where she had once stumbled along trying not to see it, she now strode free of illusion. 
	Yes, that collapsed doorway had always been there, and that hole in the floor. 
	It would trip her no longer.</p><p>Hyrule Castle had never been her home. 
	It had only ever been a tomb.</p><p>The conventional entrance to Zelda’s bedchamber was blocked; given that Link had already reported seeing the interior, she knew there was a way around. 
	She laughed upon seeing the collapsed bed—‘no rest for the blessed’, she muttered—then built a small fire in the fireplace and set about appraising the remainder.</p><p>It came as some surprise to her that there was very little she much  cared about in the room.</p><p>It was easiest to begin with the necessities: 
	She grabbed a bag and began lining it with clothes :— stockings, linens, boots, outerwear. 
	Blouses, dresses, trousers 
	—: These things she left behind. 
	She had never appreciated the way they fit her figure; they were artefacts of her station, as though haivng a defined arse or bosom somehow made one a better leader. 
	Zelda herself certainly would have been more effective in baggy trousers and a fingertip‐length sweater—not that she had ever actually been allowed to lead anything.</p><p>Well. 
	Link had followed her, regardless.</p><p>Her diary stared at her from atop her desk, open to the very first page. 
	She was certain she hadn’t left it thus—had bokoblins learned how to read? 
	(Of course, it had been Link.) 
	Idly, she examined the scrawl:</p><p></p><blockquote class="HAND">
  <p>after meeting with the †champions, i left to research the ancient technology, but nothing of note came of my research.</p>
  <p>the return of †ganon looms—a dark force taunting us from afar. 
		i must learn all i can about the relics so we can stop him.</p>
  <p>if the fortune‐teller’s prophecy is to be believed, there isn’t much time left . . .</p>
  <p>ah, but turning over these thoughts in my head puts me ill at ease[—]</p>
</blockquote><p>Zelda closed the cover, feeling sick. 
	She resisted the urge to toss the whole thing in the fire. 
	Still, it would not be opened again in her lifetime.</p><p>As for the other texts on her shelves: 
	It pained Zelda to see the work of so many scribes go to waste. 
	However, books were bulky and heavy and hardly suitable for travel—not to mention the fact that these were all a century out·of·date. 
	She selected a thin text of seafaring epics for the road; the rest would remain behind.</p><p>The stairs to her study had collapsed. 
	Zelda was torn between asking Link to help her gain access later, and deciding it not worth the bother: 
	Surely the records of Purah or her descendants would be of more utility than those of a sixteen‐year‐old girl—and there were memories enough down that path that she would rather not stir.</p><p>So, with that, she disrupted the fire, hoisted the bag on her shoulders, and closed the door on her past life. 
	It amazed her how easy it was to walk away.</p><p>There was one other location on Zelda’s agenda before she made her way back to Link—or, rather, a single chest. 
	It lay at the foot of her father’s bed, and within resided the remains of her mother’s personal effects. 
	Zelda had never seen inside.</p><p>It wasn’t that she had been forbidden from doing so in her youth. 
	No, there were many places in the Castle which had been restricted from her as a child, but her father’s quarters had never been one of them. 
	It was only that doing so, stepping into that room and lifting that lid, would have required showing vulnerability in front of a man whose very presence already left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. 
	It wasn’t that Hyrule’s King could be blamed for his wife’s passing, but he was the wedge which drove between Zelda and her memory. 
	Now, he was gone.</p><p>Zelda’s candle might have been extinguished, and she still would have been able to navigate the distance without a step out of place. 
	Thankfully, it burned strong, such that she was able to lift it high and peer within. 
	But three things lay inside.</p><p>The first item was a dress. 
	Wedding attire, perhaps; Zelda had never seen it before. 
	Careful to keep it away from the flame, she attempted to measure it against her own body, and was surprised to find it smaller in every dimension than anything she might wear. 
	Of course, she knew she had inherited her father’s broadness, but . . . 
	She was taller than her mother. 
	For some reason, the thought brought tears to her eyes. 
	She folded the dress and set it aside.</p><p>Second was a jewellery box. 
	Zelda wrinkled her nose at the bulk of it—put simply, she was not a Goron, and had never seen the value in precious stones. 
	Still one piece caught her eye. 
	It was simple: a Hylian Crest, set in silver, on a short chain. 
	Zelda fastened it around her neck, and felt the wingtips press gently beneath her collarbone. 
	She wasn’t sure if she believed in Hylia, anymore—but as a reminder of her mother, it would do.</p><p>The final item was a diary, much like her own. 
	By candlelight, Zelda opened it to the ribboned leaf . . .</p><p>Zelda’s mother had passed away when Zelda herself was only six, and still a relative newcomer to the page. 
	She had never written or made a mark on any legislation or scripture that Zelda had seen, as far as she could recall. 
	And yet, the script which met her eyes was immediately recognizable. 
	It was only with great effort that Zelda was able to focus on the words, as she blinked back tears and read the text:</p><p></p><blockquote class="HAND">
  <p>a most beautiful trip to †gerudo town† this past month, hence the lack of any note here. 
		†urbosa is charming as ever. 
		†rhoam teases that he fears i might abscond with her and leave him all alone to manage the throne, and i reply (in jest!) that were it not for †zelda, i might. 
		the sex certainly makes for a compelling incentive—i daresay †rhoam knows, because he is always especially tender with his affections whenever we are in the †desert; more often than not, i refuse him, blaming the heat! 
		but an ice cube between my †lady’s teeth and neither of us have any difficulty finding water.</p>
  <p>i should like to bring †zelda here sometime, as she has not been since she was just a newborn; the †gerudo children have a youthful lightness not found in all the rest of †hyrule. 
		i can only imagine what my childhood might have been like, were i surrounded by only women! 
		yet perhaps these are only the rebellious thoughts of a mother. 
		†zelda herself seems quite content engrossing herself with the serious matters of a †hyrulean royal education, and has never much taken to other girls.</p>
  <p>i should like her to meet †urbosa, at least, in her native habitat. 
		how fortunate that a child should have two mothers― i am told †urbosa already thinks of the child as her own. 
		it sets my mind at ease, knowing that should anything ever happen to me, †zelda will still be cared for.</p>
  <p>and the shadows of †hyrule do not sleep. 
		trouble amongst the †sheikah in †kakariko—i will be setting out again tomorrow. 
		for now, i rest.</p>
</blockquote><p>She would not return.</p><p>Despite the melancholy of the moment, Zelda couldn’t help but smile. 
	She had known that her mother and Lady Urbosa had been close, of course; it had been impossible, looking at the latter’s face whenever she spoke of their time together, to deny that they had been something more than friends—yet even the Gerudo Champion had had more tact than to outright say to her face that she’d fucked Zelda’s mum. 
	Zelda imagined her father, stuck in Kara Kara Bazaar—or, better yet, at the gates of Gerudo Town itself—left behind in the heat as Urbosa and her mother shared various intimacies in comfort, and her smile broke into a laugh.</p><p>Urbosa was gone, too, now. 
	Gone not at six, but at seventeen, when Zelda had been old enough to see her not only as a mother but as a person, one who had experienced loss and yet always kept her face valiantly to the future, one who, unlike her father, taught her what it meant to move on. 
	Zelda closed the journal and placed it in her bag, beside her own. 
	It hurt. 
	But she was done running away.</p><p>Hyrule Castle had only ever been a tomb.</p><p>Zelda blew out her candle as she reentered Link’s room, placing her bag beside Link’s own. 
	She found them slightly stirring. 
	‘. . . Zelda?’ they asked. 
	‘What are you doing?’</p><p>She snuck back under the covers, only just now realizing how chill the night air had made her. 
	She snuggled their body closely and drew in their warmth. 
	‘I only went for a walk,’ she said. 
	‘Go back to sleep. 
	Everything’s fine.’</p><p>Link didn’t need to be told twice. 
	And as for Zelda, the walk had been what she’d needed to put her restless mind at ease. 
	Two lives—her mother’s, and her own—lay behind her. 
	But there still existed one which lay ahead.</p><p>Lying there, her cheek pressed up against Link’s breast, Zelda felt for the first time that perhaps the future would turn out alright.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h4>02 Macuary 2021.</h4><p>While much of the Christian world celebrates Candlemas today, here in North America we call it by a different name. 
	Indeed, today, Punxsutawney Phil, eternal boar of the earth, upon emerging from his den, is reputed to have seen his shadow, casting six more weeks of winter upon the rest of us. 
	Of course, one can hardly mention Groundhog Day without paying tribute to its other, more recent meaning, one of being trapped in a recurring cycle of events, unable to break free.</p><p>Shadows and recurrence: 
	If I had to make a guess, I would say that these are the principal themes of <cite>Breath of the Wild</cite>. 
	I find it hardly surprising that Calamity Ganon emerged from beneath Hyrule Castle rather than some faraway place like Gerudo Town. 
	Hyrule is a land of shadows, and a land of recurrence—a fact that the true Shadow Folk well know.</p><hr/><h4>Soundtrack</h4><dl>
	<dt>🎵TITLE</dt>
	<dd>Luke Howard. “In Praise of Shadows”. From <cite>Open Heart Story</cite> (2018). <a href="https://youtu.be/GLQRGhvcMNk">Youtube</a>.</dd>
	<dt>🎵A</dt>
	<dd>Taro Iwashiro. “Beyond the River”. Featuring the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra. From <cite>Red Cliff: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack</cite> (Silva Screen Records, 2009). <a href="https://youtu.be/bX7auDobWZY">Youtube</a>.</dd>
	<dt>🎵B</dt>
	<dd>Of Monsters and Men. “Visitor”. Single (Skrimsl, 2020). <a href="https://youtu.be/yToOwloey-A">Youtube</a>.</dd>
</dl><hr/><h4>postscript</h4><p>some of you, i’m sure, are asking: where is the ZeLink?? you promised me the ZeLink!!</p><p>look ass hole, the ZeLink is coming, and the monkey’s paw will curl</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. “everything i wanted”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if you saw the ‹ <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/genderfeels/works">genderfeels</a> › tag and thought that surely it was in reference to ‹ <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Nonbinary%20Link%20(Legend%20of%20Zelda)/works">Nonbinary Link (Legend of Zelda)</a> ›—i am laughing so hard at you right now</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Ganon and Her agents and come for Zelda’s mother, they had claimed her with nary a fight. 
	Zelda was just six years old.</p><p>When Ganon and Her agents had come for Zelda herself, there was a fight waiting for them. 
	She was sixteen, and left the encounter unscathed. 
	Physically.</p><p>In truth, her first near‐death experience affected her more than she had anticipated. 
	The whole bloody world was going through a near‐death experience, after all, and it had been for her entire life. 
	So what were a few Yiga assassins? 
	Yet still, she was shook, and she surely would have perished had Link not come to her rescue.</p><p>It was then that it finally sunk in for her: there, as she watched them deflect that blow. 
	Well, technically, it was after. 
	Much after, once she had escaped to her room and cried herself to sleep in the solitude of her covers, awoken to a numb nausea, and then slowly worked through her feelings of shock. 
	But her memory would place it in that moment: the knowledge that Link was literally giving their life to protect her. 
	Not as a metaphor. 
	It was entirely in her hands.</p><p>Hands which, thus far, Zelda had known, had wrought nothing but failure. 
	Small hands; delicate; not up to the task before them. 
	Zelda wasn’t so vain as to think there was some innate quality within herself wot made them do it. 
	They all had their duties. 
	But the reasoning hardly mattered, because the conseqquences were the same—Zelda found herself going from not wanting Link to be her guard to not wanting them to be her guard for an entirely different reason. 
	It simply was not fair.</p><p>Link, Mipha, Daruk, Revali, Urbosa :— each so accomplished. 
	It simply was not <em>fair</em> that each one of them would be called upon to risk their lives in this way. 
	Most of all Link, who it now seemed had the most dangerous appointment of any of them, and all for the sake of protecting <em>her</em>, a failure of a princess. 
	Yet she had done naught but make their job harder—she would need to apologize to them for that. 
	Zelda had been so convinced of their animosity towards her that she had set about making it a self‐fulfilling prophecy—a poor substitute for a different prophecy, yet unfulfilled.</p><p>Because Zelda’s responsibility, unlike that of the Champions, had not been one of sacrifice, but of holding on. 
	Indeed, a responsibility of taking, of assuming, of manifesting a role—a role which had been laid out for her since the moment she was born, which—despite her best efforts and everyone’s assurances to the contrary—seemed somehow antithetical to her soul. 
	She stood for the umpteenth time in the frigid waters of the Spring of Courage and, rather than praying to Hylia for their salvation, caught herself instead wishing that she had been born a man, such that she would have been saved from the whole blasted affair. 
	Fate of the world be damned.</p><p>It was in that moment which she realized that this was never going to work, and there were probably better ways that she could be spending her time.</p><p>Zelda’s father, of course, did not agree. 
	Her appraisal—and <em>truly</em>, she was just stating <em>facts</em>—he dismissed as childish fantasy; simply, if she could not make manifest the Goddess❗Princess wot he had designated her at birth, why, that was yet another failing on her part, in his estimation—certainly not one of his own for not having two fucking eyeballs in his head, and seeing his child for what they were. 
	She was to cease this immaturity immediately. 
	She was to grow out of this phase. 
	She was to quit desecrating the name of Hylia, to conduct herself in Her Image, and most of all she was to pray.</p><p>Zelda lost her faith that day.</p><p>In her sleep, her hands gripped Link’s shirt as she relived those conversations yet again. 
	For all that time, she had been projecting at Link feelings which she rightfully ought to have directed at her father—there was more to apologize for than she’d initially thought.</p><p>But Link had understood, once the scope of the situation became clear. 
	Taking shelter from the rain beneath a tree outside of Deya Village, she had asked them: 
	‘What if . . . one day . . . you realized that you just weren’t meant to be a fighter? 
	Yet the only thing people ever said . . . was that you were born into a family of the royal guard, and so no matter what you thought, you had to become a knight.’ 
	Link was under a great deal of pressure, they had confided as much, but that wasn’t what she was getting at. 
	Her question was this: 
	‘If that was the only thing that you were ever told . . . I wonder then . . . would you have chosen a different path?’</p><p>Had even Link, the most courageous among them, the ability to stand in the face of a role they had been equated with their entire life, and deny?</p><p>‘I think . . . given those circumstances . . .’ Link had replied, giving her a small smile. 
	‘I would run away.’ 
	Zelda laughed, and Link joined in, because that was what she had done exactly, what she was doing now, if she was honest, under the pretence of visiting holy sites.</p><p>‘I think that you might get in trouble, were I to run away,’ Zelda told them.</p><p>Link winked at her. 
	‘Not if we run away <em>together</em>.’ 
	She had tried leaving them behind before—it hadn’t worked. 
	‘You just need a disguise, is all.’</p><p>That evening would mark the first time that Zelda had worn Link’s clothed. 
	She put on an old shirt and trousers and made her hair up into a messy bun, and when the rain lifted the two of them strode down into Deya Village as though they were entirely ordinary, as casual as you please. 
	Zelda introduced herself as Cord, be it short for Conrad or Cordelia or anything else, and they found it even odds whether people assumed she was Link’s sibling or significant other. 
	They drank and danced and by the end of the night were quite familiar with the local pub tunes.</p><p>It was quite possibly the happiest night of her life.</p><p>But, morning arrived. 
	As her father had commanded, Zelda set such childish notions aside. 
	She dressed in her royal blue and they set out for the Castle, where she would be scolded again for what would be the final time. 
	She ran away. 
	The Calamity came.</p><p>Yet from that day forward, when Zelda fell asleep at night, she found that she only ever had two kinds of dreams—cleanly delineated by attire. 
	In her more stressful visions, the sort wot characterized her slumber in the final days before the Calamity struck, she was in ceremonial dress, trying and failing in her fight against the inevitable. 
	But in her more pleasant ones—even those recalling moments with the other Champions, or her time as a child—she was clothed like Link, perfectly comfortable to the point of only recognizing the fact after she awoke. 
	Never adressed as Princess, and sometimes not even as Zelda.</p><p>In these dreams, she was definitely not Link’s sibling. 
	With alarming frequency, her brain conjured reasons for Link to be without their trousers. 
	And with alarming frequency, she was by the end of things, too.</p><p>Such was not the case on this night, thankfully—considering she was presently straddling their leg. 
	Well—Link had been fully clothed. 
	She remembered the brilliant blue of their tunic, sword flashing as they combatted Ganon the way she had always imagined—a way which turned out to bear little resemblance to actual fact. 
	And after, when she had materialized—it was as if her mind no longer knew how to clothe her. 
	She wore nothing at all.</p><p>So it was a moment of disconcertment when Zelda stirred and found herself in Link’s climbing clothes, actually, not in a dream. 
	She peered through the dark and attempted to make out their sleeping form. 
	They were warm, and sleeping soundly. 
	She sighed, extricating herself from their tangle, flopping onto her back and letting her breathing subside.</p><p>She could wear their clothes whenever she wanted, now. 
	Nobody would care; none would tell her it wasn’t <em>proper</em>—the thought stirred something deep within her, as she traced her fingers in a calming pattern down her chest. 
	Hylia. 
	And they were right <em>there</em>. 
	Zelda wasn’t sure if she wanted to fuck Link or just <em>be</em> them, if she wanted them inside of her in the manner of a horny teenage girl or as something else, something more sinister, departing their soul from their body and claiming their face for herself. 
	Her thumb rubbed gently against a nipple, hardened against the fabric; she closed her eyes and exhaled deeply and prayed with all her might for that to be <em>enough</em>, for the demon inside her to be sated before she fucked up and hurt her best—now, <em>only</em>—friend.</p><p>The demon was not sated. 
	But it was quelled, for the moment. 
	Link, for their part, was none the wiser, snoring lightly. 
	A mischevious urge struck her, and she reached out and poked their jaw.</p><p>‘. . . Mm?’ 
	They stirred and turned their head towards her, pinning her offending digit against the pillow. 
	Zelda rolled her eyes and freed her hand with a gentle tug.</p><p>There were no secrets between them—but even Zelda wasn’t about to admit that she had woken them up to distract her from her throbbing clit. 
	She went with another truth: 
	‘I’ve missed you,’ she said. 
	In fairness, lying there, looking at them through the dark, her mind somehow indexing with certainty the exact position of their eyes, their lips, their cock despite not witnessing any—masturbation was the furthest thing from her mind. 
	She slid closer, their noses almost touching. 
	‘Hey, Link . . .’ she said, softly, barely above a whisper. 
	‘Have you ever . . . thought about fucking?’</p><p>She could practically hear Link blinking beside her. 
	‘You woke me up for <em>sex</em>,’ they clarified, and oh gods, had she. 
	Oh Hylia, yes. 
	She was in Link’s clothes for the first time in over a century and she wanted nothing more than to strip them off; to be naked with Link in bed.</p><p>She couldn’t even find it within her to be embarrased. 
	‘. . . Yes?’ she asked hopefully, biting her lip.</p><p>She heard Link mumble something which she was pretty sure wasn’t words, and then they rolled over, facing away from her. 
	‘Go to sleep, Zelda,’ they said, and her entire body cried out at the loss of their proximity. 
	Within moments, they were snoring again.</p><p><em>Fucking</em> Hylia. 
	Zelda squeezed her thighs together and shoved her hands under her pillow to keep them out of her trousers. 
	She remembered now why she’d spent so many months hating them.</p><p>Did she want to be Link, or just fuck them? 
	She remembered that night of stasis, where Link, after cleansing their body in the stream, had reached sown and begun to stroke their member, and Zelda, trapped in Hyrule Castle, bore witness to every thrust. 
	Gods, the tent she would be making now. 
	Gods, how nice it would feel to rub one off.</p><p>She wanted both.</p><p>She would fall asleep having neither.</p>
<hr/><p>When Zelda awoke, it was to the smell of simmered vegetables, and a hungry stomach. 
	Link had evidently risen before her—truly, a testament to how late she must have slept—and prepared breakfast, which Zelda accepted from them gladly, yawning and sitting up in bed. 
	They had a plate of their own, already half‐eaten; Zelda knew its remaining lifespan would not exceed a handful of minutes. 
	For all her ravenous energy, Zelda would be a much slower eater; she liked to chew, to ponder—well, to talk.</p><p>‘Thanks for the meal,’ she remarked, before digging in. 
	‘I don’t suppose we’ve any plans for the day?’</p><p>‘Well, you mightn’t realize it,’ Link replied, mouth full of food. 
	‘But Hyrule Field has lain pretty much abandoned since the Calamity struck. 
	Considering how <em>late</em> you woke up, our options are either to make it halfway somewhere today, or to wait and set out <em>early</em> in the hopes of reaching a stable before nightfall tomorrow.’</p><p>‘No Mabe Village?’ 
	Zelda frowned. 
	The news didn’t surprise her, exactly, but it was at the very least inconvenient. 
	And it served as a reminder: 
	The infrastructure of the world she now belonged to was entirely different from that to which she was accustomed. 
	‘Well—this is delicious, by the way, Link, thank you. 
	I’m not in any rush. 
	Although I do think I will get restless if we remain here too much longer—it’s at least better than sleeping on the ground? 
	Those are my thoughts.’</p><p>‘You seemed plenty restless last night already,’ Link quipped, and Zelda blushed. 
	Why did she have to be so horny on their very first night?</p><p>‘There were . . . some things I needed to check up on,’ she said, which explained some things but not others. 
	‘I found my mother’s diary.’</p><p>‘And?’ 
	Link raised an eyebrow. 
	‘Any revelations?’</p><p>Zelda scoffed. 
	‘I only read the last page.’ 
	But there had been, of sorts. 
	She took another bite. 
	‘Did you know that she and Lady Urbosa were an item?’</p><p>‘Oh?’ 
	Link did not seem particularly astonished by this news.</p><p>‘<em>Apparently</em>, Urbosa and Mum would leave my pa at the gates of Gerudo Town for a bit of bedroom diplomacy, if you catch my drift. 
	Doesn’t surprise me at all, knowing Urbosa, but I didn’t know my mother swung that way.’</p><p>‘I don’t suppose the sex life of the Queen is the sort of thing which ordinarily makes it into the historical record,’ Link remarked.</p><p>Zelda nodded. 
	‘Or the Champions, for that matter.’</p><p>Link pondered this for some time, which gave Zelda an opportunity to eat. 
	It wasn’t until after she had finished her plate and set it aside that Link spoke again. 
	‘Did you know that Mipha owned a pair of satin gloves?’</p><p>‘Mm?’ 
	Zelda puzzled over this nonsequitur. 
	‘Why would she—?’ 
	Then she realized, blushing and covering her mouth. 
	‘You didn’t—!’</p><p>‘We were both adults!’ Link protested. 
	‘It was consensual!’</p><p>‘I suppose, with Zora anatomy being what it is, gloves are really the only option . . .’ 
	Zelda had to admit not having given the idea much thought. 
	‘I didn’t know you two were <em>like that</em>, though.’</p><p>‘She . . . really wanted to be a good partner to me. 
	She honestly found it unnerving, at first, but—’ 
	Link took a deep breath. 
	‘Hylia, why is this hitting me so hard? 
	It’s such a little thing, but, I really wish— 
	All of my memories of us are so awkward. 
	She wanted to be my wife, and the only memories I have are of us being awkard fucking kids.’</p><p>It had been their last trip to Zora’s Domain before the Calamity. 
	Link had injured their arm in the days previous, and made the mistake of wincing in the Princess Zora’s presence. 
	She had demanded a full physical, and . . . 
	In retrospect, Link knew that she had meant to confess her love. 
	Instead, as her fingers had traced the waistband of Link’s undershorts, what she said was something different.</p><p>‘Link, the Calamity is almost upon us, and . . . before it arrives . . .’ 
	They had been dating, of sorts, since shortly after Link had drawn the sword, but with Link as Zelda’s personal guard and Mipha’s responsibilities to her own people, their mettings had become few and far between. 
	The Zora Princess took a deep breath. 
	‘I would like to know what you feel like, in my hand,’ she said. 
	There was something else she wanted to ask, but she hoped it could wait until . . . after.</p><p>When the semen hit her scales, there was a part of her which was mortified. 
	But there was another part—deeper, more fundamental—which knew that she was irrecoverably, forever in love.</p><p>She would never get the chance to try again.</p><p>‘I’m crying because the sex with my girlfriend wasn’t as good as it might’ve been,’ Link moaned. 
	‘How pathetic is that?’</p><p>Zelda realized, in that moment: 
	She and Link had had entirely different experiences of the Champions. 
	‘Link, I’m so sorry about last night,’ she said softly. 
	It was late—or . . . early—and I wasn’t . . . myself. 
	I should have known this would be hard for you, with Mipha—’</p><p>Link shook their head, waving her off. 
	‘No, don’t read too much into it,’ they said, working hard to control their breathing. 
	‘I really was just exhausted. 
	You can repeat the question now, if you like.’</p><p>‘Well, it seems a little silly, now that I’m not in the middle of an identity crisis,’ Zelda grumbled. 
	‘Let’s just cut the crap, alright? 
	I haven’t seen another human being in over a hundred years. 
	You’re hot and available. 
	We have this window, where I’m not going to be capable of pregnancy for a few more days—’</p><p>‘Hold on, <em>what</em>?’ Link asked. 
	‘How in Hylia’s name do you know <em>that</em>?’</p><p>‘Okay, look, I know that normally when someone tells you that they know For Sure that they won’t get pregnant you should treat that with the utmost skepticism and run the other way, but—’ 
	Zelda looked at them seriously. 
	‘I know For Sure. 
	Because of, uh, magic reasons. 
	For a couple of days.’ 
	She flopped back against her pillow. 
	‘Anyway, that makes it sound terrible, like I only want to have sex because it’s convenient, but . . . 
	Can’t that be something we do? 
	As friends?’</p><p>Link looked at her for a long moment. 
	‘. . . Zelda,’ they said. 
	‘What exactly happened here, for the past one·hundred years?’</p><p>Zelda pursed her lips, trying to decide how to answer <em>that</em> question. 
	‘My powers were dormant,’ she said, putting rest to the wrong mystery, ‘because of something I lacked.’ 
	Her voice had taken on a scholarly tone, which Link knew well enough meant she was guarding her feelings on the matter. 
	‘Love.’</p><p>Link blinked in surprise. 
	‘But <em>I</em> loved you,’ they said, which wasn’t necessarily something they would have admitted at the time. 
	‘Mipha loved you; Urbosa loved you; your father—’</p><p>‘Don’t,’ she warned, and Link shut the hell up. 
	Zelda rewarded them with a thin smile and a softer tone. 
	‘No, silly, not other people’s love. 
	My own. 
	I am sorry that it took me watching you fall to finally give into it.’ 
	She coughed. 
	‘Regardless, you were taken to the Shrine of Resurrection, and I used the Power of My Love to restrain Ganon until such a time as we could be reunited again. 
	It was elementary, really.’</p><p>‘. . . I see.’ 
	Link entirely did not see. 
	It was unusual enough just hearing Zelda talk about something so qualitative and ill‐defined as “love”, and her explanation sounded less like the truth of what had happened and more like—well, a fairy tale.</p><p>‘I know,’ she sighed. 
	‘It’s impossible to explain. 
	Every time I try to put words to it, it winds up sounding like some romantic cliché. 
	And we’re not, well—you know. 
	Like that. 
	You just happened to journey across the kingdom for me, and I just happened to stave off the end of the world for you.’</p><p>The pair sat in silence with that thought for a good long time.</p><p>‘So, uh,’ Zelda said finally. 
	‘There’s someone else, is there?’</p><p>Link snorted. 
	‘I could hardly settle down when I was busy running about trying to save the world,’ they said. 
	‘. . . Not that there weren’t attempts to convince me otherwise.’</p><p>‘Well, you know what they say about a hardworking puck,’ Zelda replied. 
	Link raised an eyebrow: 
	They did not know. 
	‘ “Easy to love, hard to fuck”?’ she offered, and they laughed.</p><p>‘Sounds about right,’ they said, and inwardly Zelda breathed a sigh of relief, because while she was <em>pretty sure</em> she would have sensed if Link had gotten busy with someone during their journey, that said nothing of promises made for later.</p><p>‘I’m just not your type then,’ Zelda pressed, and received another snort. 
	It was her turn to raise an eyebrow.</p><p>‘Zel,’ Link said. 
	‘I’m pretty sure you’re, like, <em>everyone’s</em> type. 
	You have a perfect face, these big, gorgeous eyes, a full figure . . . 
	Dare I say amazing breasts? 
	The finest arse in all of Hyrule? 
	And royalty to boot.’</p><p>‘Considering you just listed all the things I hate about myself, I think you <em>have</em> to fuck me now,’ Zelda teased. 
	‘Anyway, we all know <em>your</em> arse is the one everybody is talking about. 
	I honestly couldn’t tell you what anyone sees in mine.’</p><p>‘Well, of course you would think that,’ Link scoffed. 
	‘You’re not into girls.’</p><p>In that moment, Zelda’s torso finally caught up to the fact that it was no longer under the covers, and the climbing tunic she wore offered very little warmth of its own. 
	She rubbed her arms gently. 
	‘Do you want a piece of it or not?’</p><p>‘Do you promise not to take the fate of the world on as your personal burden if I say yes?’ Link asked.</p><p>Hard to fuck indeed. 
	Zelda climbed out of the covers and over to their lap, lifting their chin with one finger. 
	Thank Hylia, they had an erection. 
	‘Scout’s honour,’ she said, leaning in and softly kissing their lips.</p><p>Neither of them had bathed since defeating Calamity Ganon. 
	They both tasted like breakfast. 
	But all things considered, Zelda couldn’t have asked for a better first kiss.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h4>14 Rudanny 2021.</h4><p>This chapter was originally going to be posted for Valentines Day, but alas!  I got distracted writing an X·M·L processor from scratch instead.  I am presently banging my head against tail optimizations in context‐free grammars and if that makes no sense to you, then that makes two of us.</p><p>So you get this chapter for White Day instead⁓</p><p>Now is perhaps a good time to remind that I am not on mainstream social media; the only visibility my works usually get are from people browsing tags here on A·O·3.  While I am thankful (and inspired!) by this website’s discovery mechanisms, they do have certain drawbacks and downsides—as does any passive curation mechanism.</p><p>I’d like to see a fandom which is more active about <strong>sharing, talking about, and uplifting fanworks which they find meaningful,</strong> and to this end I’m going to try very hard to note my influences here.  For the very mild glove kink in today’s chapter, I would be remiss not to note <strong><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/20398480"><cite>The Complete Guide for Courting Etiquette: the Do’s and Don’ts of a Royal Engagement 4th Edition</cite></a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/GourdKin/pseuds/GourdKin">GourdKin</a></strong>, which is not only <em>the</em> Zelda glove kink fic, but also probably the best use of the “Zelda is Horny” trope I’ve read.  Any story about hornt Zelda owes much to that fic.</p><p>For Zelda getting horny while sharing a bed with Link, I <em>have</em> to cite <strong><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118084"><cite>Breath of the Wild: An Oblivious Hero</cite></a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/sad_poet/pseuds/sad_poet">sad_poet</a></strong>, which—although I didn’t read it until after I had this chapter fully planned out—captures exactly the sort of mood I expect from this sort of scenario.</p><p>And finally, for Zelda having the best day of her life in Deya Village prior to the Calamity, there is <strong><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/14552079"><cite>A Chapel in Deya</cite></a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyChestnut/pseuds/SpicyChestnut">SpicyChestnut</a></strong>.  It may be some time before the next chapter of this fic publishes, so in the meantime please give these authors and fanworks your love!</p><hr/>
<h4>Soundtrack</h4>
<dl>
	<dt>🎵TITLE</dt>
	<dd>Billie Eilish. “everything i wanted”. Single (Darkroom/Interscope Records, 2019). <a href="https://youtu.be/qCTMq7xvdXU">Youtube</a>.</dd>
	<dt>🎵A</dt>
	<dd>The Mountain Goats. “Animal Mask”. From <cite>Beat the Champ</cite> (Merge Records, 2015). <a href="https://themountaingoats.bandcamp.com/track/animal-mask">Bandcamp</a>; <a href="https://youtu.be/U3bV40rEfko">Youtube</a>.</dd>
	<dt>🎵B</dt>
	<dd>Kllo. “Insomnia”. From <cite>Maybe We Could</cite> (2020). <a href="https://kllosounds.bandcamp.com/track/insomnia">Bandcamp</a>; <a href="https://youtu.be/QJdm3I0gcnI">Youtube</a>.</dd>
</dl>
<hr/>
<h4>postscript</h4><p>would you believe me if i told you that only 24 hours have passed in this fic since it began</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. “To Be Alone”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i know everybody clicked on this fanfic hoping for ZeLink smut and i would just like you to know that i have been deliberately putting it off just to fuck with you</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a hot and exhausting day of travel, as was typical for the Gerudo Valley desert in that time of year, which was to say, summer. 
	If she hadn’t had an ulterior motive for making the trip, the Queen Hyrule might’ve had half a mind to demand diplomacy take place in the Castle for the hottest (and, let’s be frank, coldest) periods of the year. 
	But Lady Urbosa always knew how to press homefield advantage. 
	They now relaxed in the Gerudo Town cantina, sipping a drink of Urbosa’s own creation, speaking in a private booth.</p><p>‘. . . I can’t believe you got away with calling them this,’ the Queen Zelda grumbled, staring at her glass. 
	‘I ought to be offended.’</p><p>‘You needn’t drink it if you don’t want it, darling,’ Urbosa replied, with a look that said “I get away with everything”. 
	Urbosa had, after all, designed the drink to cater <em>precisely</em> to Zelda’s tastes, and especially so on a hot day like today. 
	It was the simplest of a thousand tiny incentives encouraging her to journey out so far.</p><p>Their relationship was far from proper. 
	‘Of course I want it,’ Zelda protested, when Urbosa made as if to whisk her glass away. 
	‘That’s the whole <em>problem</em> with the thing. 
	Any woman would be wooed by a cold, fruity drink such as this after a trek through the desert. 
	Yet you had to name it the <em>Noble</em> Pursuit—yes, everybody knows exactly which noble you’re pursuing, my dear.’</p><p>Urbosa shrugged. 
	‘The one who comes out to see me.’ 
	The two made quite a pair :— the Queen Hyrule small, slight, refined; the Gerudo Chief tall, muscular, crass —: although they had wits and staminas to match. 
	They began with the usual pleasantries: 
	‘How is Rhoam?’ Urbosa asked.</p><p>Zelda sighed in the predictable fashion. 
	‘Commandering, self·absorbed, obnoxious; you know how it is with men.’ 
	Noted Dyke Urbosa only knew from Zelda’s previous rants on the subject, but nevertheless. 
	‘I married him for his competence, not his charm,’ Zelda asserted for the dozenth time. 
	‘For that, I have you.’</p><p>‘I can be plenty obnoxious,’ Urbosa reminded, and the Queen laughed.</p><p>‘Perhaps I have a type, then.’</p><p>‘And the little bird?’ 
	Urbosa always found it awkward referring to the child with the name of the woman whose labia she was about to unravel, so she used the Queen’s own nickname for her whenever the subject came up. 
	More frequently than the Queen herself, as it happened.</p><p>‘Zelda is . . . healthy,’ her mother replied. 
	‘Headstrong, precocious; I can’t tell if she has inherited her parents’ best traits or their worst ones.’ 
	Despite the exhaustion which flavoured her voice, Urbosa could tell that Zelda missed her heir; missed being away from home.</p><p>‘Is there such a difference?’ Urbosa teased. 
	Idly, she wondered which of her own traits might have been inherited, if. 
	Zelda, for her part, merely sighed and looked away.</p><p>‘I’m too tired to flirt, Urbosa; give me a moment to rest.’ 
	She was dressed properly for the environment :— lightweight trousers; sand shoes; now, a sparse, sleeveless undershirt—her skin‐protecting outerwear already removed. 
	In a typical display of cultural pride, Urbosa was flaunting her inability to burn. 
	She slid around the table until they were shoulder·to·shoulder, took a long drink, and spit an ice cube into her open palm.</p><p>‘Let’s just sit here together, then,’ she said, ‘and cool off.’ 
	Beneath the table, her hand slipped under Her Majesty’s waistband, nestling the cube just above her pubic mound—and there it sat, melting slowly, as there they sat, together waiting. 
	Reminiscent of so many other scenarios, and so many other evenings, the slow trickle of cold liquid made it impossible for Zelda to miss Urbosa’s intention; despite herself, she felt a heat rising in her abdomen to challenge the chill. 
	She put on her most diplomatic face and glanced over; Urbosa was sweating lightly and freely in the desert heat, and she really was that lovely. 
	Zelda finished her drink.</p><p>‘I’ve no interest in being fucked in this <em>bar</em>,’ the Queen said, as if she hadn’t been bent over this very table on her last trip. 
	Urbosa reached through the curtain and returned with two fresh glasses, gorgeously chilled. 
	‘But I wouldn’t refuse a show.’</p><p>Urbosa smiled and loosened the latch on her top. 
	‘With orders like that,’ she said, ‘one might be forgiven for assuming you were in control.’ 
	Slender fingers sailed past frigid waters, and Zelda gasped as her own royal digits touched warmer shores. 
	With one hand, Urbosa held her cheek gently against her bare chest; with the other, she lightly traced Zelda’s collarbone. 
	‘That’s right, girl,’ she said. 
	‘Let it all out.’</p><p>‘Please don’t make me orgasm staring at that garish skirt,’ Zelda replied, and Urbosa laughed.</p><p>One·hundred·twelve years later, in the West Passage beneath Hyrule Castle, the younger Zelda would find herself appreciating a show of her own.</p><p>They had fucked, of course—she and Link. 
	Of course they had, and it was about as awkward a first time as one could imagine. 
	As Zelda quickly discovered, the angles were somewhat different when jacking off someone else as opposed to one’s own member, and so her professed voyeuristic experience in the matter was largely for nil. 
	She found herself performing far too many calculations on·the·fly to be really confident in the result. 
	And so focused was she that, when Link finally came, it caught her entirely by surprise and nearly took her eye out besides. 
	‘Oh,’ she had said, wiping her face with her arm; ‘I suppose that’s that, then.’</p><p>It was somewhat less exciting when she couldn’t feel it occur.</p><p>And so too was the case with Link, who needed to be walked through every aspect of foreplay, clitoral operation, and vaginal pleasure—Zelda was so horny that she came before they had really gotten the hang of any of it, not that she was really complaining about <em>that</em>. 
	Indeed, awkwardness aside, they both concurred that, in sum, it had been a strange but pleasurable experience. 
	Worth trying a second time.</p><p>The more immediate concern, of course, was getting clean.</p><p>Fortunately for them, beneath the unmanned wasteland of Hyrule Castle lay two passages, and within each of these passages lay a pool. 
	Ancient technology, whose originary purpose was otherwise unknown, acted as a heat‐siphon between them, conveying thermal energy from east to west like the sun—the end result being that one passage was absolutely frigid and the other tropically warm. 
	Prior to the Calamity, the Castle staff had used the former as a source of ice and refrigeration; the latter would make for a fine bath now. 
	Submerging her face,  Zelda could feel a hundred years of stress melting away :— gone was fear; gone was doubt; gone were everybody’s expectations —: left, still, was want, because upon resurfacing she could see Link’s face.</p><p>And, well, the rest of them. 
	Link was kneeling by some shrines, and they were fiddling with something—perhaps an offering of sorts. 
	They weren’t clothed. 
	Zelda waded to get a good look at their backside—during sex, she had been a little pre·occupied with the end of their x‐axis which had an arrow pointing out of it; now, she saw that the reverse frankly exceeded the hype.
	<i>If I had a cock,</i> Zelda thought; out loud, she asked, curiously: 
	‘. . . What are you doing?’</p><p>‘<em>Some</em> of us still have respect for the old traditions,’ Link replied, rising and clapping their hands loudly—Zelda sinking deeper into the water to hide her blush. 
	‘Oh, spirits of this bath: 
	May you help to cleanse this tired body, and please also ensure Zelda doesn’t slip on a rock or anything and crack open her head; that would be really annoying. 
	Amen.’</p><p>‘Impa must love you,’ Zelda grumbled, and as it happened Impa did.</p><p>Not that Impa didn’t love Zelda as well, but <em>tolerated</em> would be a better word for her feelings on the latter’s lack of conviction. 
	A creature of modernity, of science and reason, the old ways had never struck Zelda as particularly meaningful—divine sealing powers aside. 
	Yet, it remained to be seen what place modernity,  if any, might have in this new world, and so Zelda pledged to try to avoid offending any spirits for the time being. 
	‘Would you quit showing off and come join me?’ she asked instead. 
	‘Your arse is distracting my repose, and I came here to wash, not to fuck my own palm.’</p><p>They turned, and she watched their cock stiffen at the joust, and <em>Hylia</em>. 
	That such a small, involuntary motion could send such a wave of sensations coursing through her. 
	But Link heeded her request, sinking into the water beside her, drowning her fantasies as the bulk of them disappeared from view. 
	She was passed soap, and they cleaned. 
	Afterwards, neither was quite sure what to do with their hands.</p><p>‘Here, turn around,’ Link said, coming to a decision and washing the soap from theirs. 
	Zelda obliged, her back to them, exposed to the air, and her arms resting on the stone which surrounded their pond. 
	‘I was in Gerudo Town,’ they continued, lifting her hair and draping it over her right breast, lightly tracing down her neck, ‘and they taught me a thing or two about massages.’</p><p>Zelda snorted. 
	‘They let fairy children into Gerudo Town, now?’ she asked. 
	‘Last I checked, that didn’t exempt you from being <em>voe</em>.’</p><p>‘I . . . may have lied about certain aspects of my body chemistry,’ Link replied. 
	They evidently <em>had</em> learned something, because Zelda moaned as their fingers sank into her flesh, and couldn’t be bothered to wonder whether blatantly disregarding a culture’s boundaries and norms in the interests of saving the world was something she should be upset about or not.</p><p>‘Did you know Urbosa once literally <em>forced</em> me to visit the spa there?’ she asked, between soft gasps. 
	She’d mostly hated the experience—she had been young at the time, bored and easily offended by the assumptions of the adults around her, and she was given a proper royal treatment. 
	But Zelda had used up her allotment of words for the moment, so this result went unsaid.</p><p>Her mother had come, there in that booth. 
	Lips pressed to testicle, Urbosa’s shaft against cheek. 
	Fingers trailing through hair. 
	Zelda had finished her drink. 
	She had given Urbosa a blowjob of blowjobs. 
	And if anyone saw them, arm in arm, naked, kissing and stumbling out the canteen’s back entrance, well—it wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrance when the Queen was in town.</p><p>Lady Urbosa had always been an expert in back massages. 
	And, as the younger Zelda rested there, feeling Link’s fingers on her skin, thinking of spas and Gerudo Town and everything else, she recalled her mother’s diary entry, and abruptly she sat up straight as an arrow. 
	‘Link,’ she said slowly, leaning backward against them. 
	Their arms wrapped around her chest, under her breasts. 
	‘Are you familiar with the East Passage?’ 
	She felt them nod. 
	‘Do you suppose you could go and fetch me some ice, then?’</p><p>‘I imagine we could both go collect some on our way back to the room,’ Link replied, puzzled. 
	Zelda shook her head.</p><p>‘No, you misunderstand.’ 
	She was practically in Link’s lap, now, and she turned to face them, lightly straddling their hips. 
	‘I meant: 
	Would you kindly fuck me, only, I want you to cool me down with ice, first.’</p><p>This time she felt, more than saw, Link get hard. 
	She lifted her hips against them, almost subconsciously; her teeth chewed playfully at their lower lip. 
	The pair still hadn’t had <em>that kind</em> of sex yet, but Hylia if she wasn’t about ten seconds away from rectifying that situation. 
	‘Oh,’ Link said, as their head traced gently along her folds.</p><p>‘Yeah,’ Zelda whispered, reaching down and guiding them into place. 
	Her entrance was breached—just barely; just enough—and it took all her willpower to stop for five deep breaths. 
	‘Are you ready?’ she asked, voice quivering.</p><p>Link nodded, she closed her eyes, and Zelda sunk down.</p><p>For a moment, she saw nothing but stars.</p><p>She rode them gently, in the pond, not to orgasm. 
	They moved to shore, and they fucked hard.
	Zelda came, Link came, and they collapsed together at pool’s edge, hot and wet and sore. 
	Zelda couldn’t say how long it was before one of them moved again. 
	But she could say that it was Link, pulling out of her, rising to their feet.</p><p>‘. . . I think I could get some ice,’ Link said.</p><p>‘Perfect,’ Zelda gasped. 
	‘Perfect. 
	I’ll just lie here. 
	Give me five minutes, and I’ll be ready for some more.’</p><p>Zelda had never considered that she might one day be okay with lying on the cool stone of a cave floor, naked, semen leaking from between her legs, but she <em>was</em> fine with that, actually, right now. 
	She didn’t know whether to thank Ganon or Hylia for the opportunity free from consequences.</p><p>It had taken until she was fourteen to work up  the courage to ask Lady Urbosa where the babies had come from.</p><p>‘Really, little bird?’ Urbosa had said, in a condition of some shock. 
	‘I’m appalled at the state of your royal education. 
	Surely you at least know <em>what a penis is</em>, yes?’</p><p>‘I know all about <em>sexual congress</em>,’ Zelda had replied, waving her arm emphatically. 
	Urbosa certainly wasn’t about to challenge this youthful show of bravado—<em>that</em> was Rhoam’s problem. 
	‘But I mean <em>Gerudo</em> babies. 
	There aren’t any men here, and yet I see kids everywhere, running around.’</p><p>‘. . . Ah.’ 
	Urbosa laughed. 
	‘Zelda,’ she said, ‘<i>vai</i> means you have something <em>up here</em>.’ 
	She indicated her chest, and there was something there, definitely. 
	‘It doesn’t mean you have nothing <em>down here</em>,’ and she gestured to her crotch. 
	Zelda looked puzzled, so she sighed and continued, using the sort of language Zelda would understand. 
	‘There is a potion, for those born with testes, which helps one to develop a <i>vai</i> body. 
	One can only find the ingredients here in the desert—although I’m a bit surprised you haven’t at least heard <em>stories</em>—I suppose you are a bit young.’</p><p>‘Suppose you wanted to go the other way?’ Zelda asked. 
	‘Is there a potion for that?’</p><p>‘If there is such a medicine as to make your tits fall <em>off</em>,’ Urbosa laughed, ‘you won’t find it in Gerudo. 
	In any case, of more interest to <em>you</em>, Miss I‐Know‐All‐About‐Sexual‐Congress—when taken by someone with a uterus, it can be rather effective at <em>stopping</em> babies from happening—if, you know.’</p><p>Zelda, at fourteen, had indeed held no interest in babies—but she had also held no real interest in fucking, either. 
	Now, at (one·hundred·and·)eighteen, as she washed up for a second time and laid out a blanket, waiting for Link to return, she thought she might actually have reason to give Gerudo Town a call.</p><p>It took longer than five minutes, but Link, laden with ice, did return. 
	Zelda was ready for them. 
	The two barely spoke as they settled into their respective positions; they’d now had sex only twice before.</p><p>Yet Zelda was scientifically‐minded: 
	It was never too early to begin gathering data. 
	In each of her previous fuckings, the quality which had defined her experience had been such :— heat. 
	The heat of their bodies; the heat of the water; the heat which had seemed to pool in her gut and demand a release. 
	Her investigation, now, amounted to this :— 
	Removing that, what was left? 
	Link traced a cube of ice slowly down her chest, over one nipple, quickly bringing it erect. 
	Cucco·flesh rose up on her arms; her back arched against the chill. 
	When the cold liquid reached her clit, and she, bare, chilled, exposed to the world, felt her insides roil —: What remained?</p><p>In her stomach, Zelda felt no heat. 
	And it was there that she found her answer. 
	‘Link,’ she said, her tone serious and commanding. 
	‘Fuck me. 
	Now.’</p><p>Departed from her body was any sense of warmth. 
	In its place, there was only hunger.</p><p>‘<em>Now.</em>’</p><p>They were too slow. 
	They were on their back. 
	Her hands were at their crotch. 
	Her teeth were at their collarbone. 
	She squeezed their balls slowly; she ground against their shaft with her palm. 
	She got them good and hard. 
	She lay against them; their length pressed up against her slit, its warmth coming far too late to save them. 
	Zelda kissed their lips, deep and forceful and passionately.</p><p>‘This isn’t too much, is it?’ she whispered.</p><p>They shook their head no.</p><p>‘Oh, thank Hylia,’ she exhaled, and they were inside of her, and she could speak no more.</p><p>It is pointless to attempt a description of what happened next, except to say that she came, longer and harder and louder than ever before. 
	The spirits of the bath were pleased. 
	Zelda’s hunger was satisfied. 
	Link was exhausted.</p><p>And in the distance, footsteps masked the sound of climax, a lone Yiga scout slowly made their retreat.</p>
<hr/><p>‘Is this supposed to be some kind of <em>joke</em>?’ Kura exclaimed. 
	Her party had made good time; camp had been established in the Crenel foothills and they were presently enjoying supper. 
	Enjoying, save three :— Captain, Lieutenant, and the scout who now stood uncomfortably before them.</p><p>‘No, ser,’ they replied, their demeanour entirely serious: discomfort betrayed through discipline. 
	‘I reported events exactly as they occurred.’</p><p>‘Not you,’ she spat. 
	‘Dismissed.’ 
	The scout bowed, eager to be free of her glare, and left her tent in search of sustenance. 
	To Hapol, she continued: 
	‘The Yiga Nation has been waging war against this Hero for an entire year—with no success, not even a trace. 
	Was it all just luck? 
	Did we simply not search enough bedchambers?’</p><p>‘Considering the Hero laid siege to Hyrule Castle himself not forty·eight hours ago,’ Hapol remarked coolly, ‘I find it hard to believe that he is not familiar with its layout. 
	He had to know that, were the Yiga to attempt to approach the Castle through stealth, the East and West Passages would be likely points of entry.’</p><p>‘Do you suppose he is just cocky, then? 
	Hapol, he left the Princess, alone, naked and unguarded, <em>on a fucking silver platter</em> in one of the <em>first</em> places that an assassin might pass through. 
	If I were <em>any other captain</em>, she would already be dead. 
	Does he underestimate us?’</p><p>‘Perhaps he simply let lust get the better of him,’ Hapol replied dryly. 
	‘He is a teenager, after all.’</p><p>Kura snorted. 
	They had tried the lust tactic, to no avail.</p><p>The truth was that they both already knew the reason—and neither wanted to speak it aloud. 
	The Hero had successfully mobilized the four corners of Hyrule in his quest to save the Princess and end the Calamity. 
	The Yiga had tried to stop him, and lost. 
	The Princess had survived, and as of yesterday, had inherited this alliance as her own.</p><p>Yet, while the nations of Hyrule were pledged to Zelda in principle, they were allied under Link in practice. 
	Link, who was, above all else, a soldier. 
	Link, who, Calamity defeated, would like nothing better than to set his sights on the Yiga. 
	Only one could stay that command, and he had left her vulnerable and alone.</p><p>He was baiting them, without a doubt. 
	He wanted their fate to be sealed.</p><p>‘I liked it better when this was still a fairytale,’ Kura sighed, pressing her fingers to her forehead. 
	She had a headache. 
	‘Frankly, I don’t think the Princess is the one we need to be worried about, anymore. 
	If her actions can placate this Hero—we should offer them our blessings, don’t you think?’</p><p>‘You mean that of the two, she can be negotiated with,’ Hapol replied. 
	‘I concur.’</p><p>‘It’s obvious that she has no understanding of the kind of danger she is in. 
	Doubtless, the Hero will try to maintain that fantasy. 
	I suppose there’s naught for us to do but pray that Hylia will not give up her spawn so easily.’</p><p>‘And that Kkornaj doesn’t look east.’</p><p>The sun set on the camp, the Castle, and the whole of Hyrule. 
	Come the next morn, Kura’s party would be crossing the river into Central Hyrule, the Land of Shadow. 
	She would keep an eye on the Castle for as long as possible as they turned south, in case of further developments. 
	In the meantime, she drafted an update for Hepriko. 
	She missed the touch of Jehree.</p><p>Back in Link’s room, nestled in the arms of her Hero, the Princess Zelda slept a fitless sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h4>25 Ruta 2021.</h4><p>I literally went in to writing this chapter thinking, oh, it’s my one chapter of just pure smut, I’ve nothing much to say, and then worrying that it would wind up boring and too short.  Then I wrote it.  Now it feels like I’m flexing? (<em>How</em> many orgasms did I fit in there?)</p><p>This will be discussed in the text in a <em>much</em> later chapter, but just to assuage any discomfort:  Link doesn’t actually care what pronouns people use for them.  People from before the Calamity know to use they/them, but everyone else has just assumed he/him (or, in the case of the Gerudo, she/her) and Link has simply never bothered to correct them.  On account of not giving a shit.  So, don’t overthink it.</p><p>In fact, don’t overthink anything which happens in this chapter.  Things might get a little heavy in the near future, but I promise Chapter 06 will be something of a breather.  This fic will have its moments of discomfort, but there are moments of beauty, too.</p><p>Credit for the idea of Link and Zelda fucking in the West Passage goes to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23541976"><cite>A Private Indulgence</cite></a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LorelyLantana/pseuds/LorelyLantana">LorelyLantana</a>, which I colloquially refer to amongst my friends as “the Zelda underwear fic”.</p><p><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23238169"><cite>Something in my Heart</cite></a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip/pseuds/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip">Cowboy_Sneep_Dip</a> takes the credit for being probably the <em>best</em> bath sex fic I’ve read; I wouldn’t say I referenced it particularly strongly when writing this chapter, but I did go back and reread it for fun anyway.</p><p>The first fifty or so paragraphs of this chapter were looked over by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevestrom/pseuds/maevestrom">maevestrom</a> to ensure that they flowed well from a structural perspective.  If they didn’t make sense to you, you can be jealous of her innate ability to understand whatever it was I said.</p><hr/><h4>Soundtrack</h4><dl>
	<dt>🎵TITLE</dt>
	<dd>Hozier. “To Be Alone”. From <cite>Hozier</cite> (Rubyworks, 2014). <a href="https://youtu.be/GnF-dZvXwWE">Youtube</a>.</dd>
	<dt>🎵A</dt>
	<dd>Lifeformed. “Frozen Hot Sauce”. From <cite>Fastfall: Dustforce OST</cite> (2012). <a href="https://lifeformed.bandcamp.com/track/frozen-hot-sauce">Bandcamp</a>; <a href="https://youtu.be/FxJXn1dOwGA">Youtube</a>.</dd>
	<dt>🎵B</dt>
	<dd>Howard Shore. “The Land of Shadow”. From <cite>The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King – The Complete Recordings</cite> (New Line Productions, 2007). <a href="https://youtu.be/MgJuzJI7qfM">Youtube</a>.</dd>
</dl><hr/><h4>postscript</h4><p>can you imagine if Zelda was assassinated like RIGHT after Link saved her like she was safer trapped inside Calamity Ganon</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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